A Morning Visit
by OneSizeFitsAll
Summary: <html><head></head>"Great," thought Erestor. "Now I have my two least favourite people in my room." No slash. Rated for hilarity, violence in the way of pillows and books, vain balrog slayers, abuse of a certain feline, and foul usage of fell language. Warning: Ccgaylord, one of the best literary critics I know, says that this story has "no plot". He is definitely right.</html>


**Author's Note: Hey all! Apologies for my absence. For those of you who have PMed, reviewed, followed, or favourited any of my stories while I was gone, I am going to contact you. I haven't been on the site for a while, and I have a lot of catching up to do, so please have patience. Know that I'm not just slighting you.**

**To make up for all that, this is my gift to you. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Thanks to my awesome beta, Rousdower. Give her a round of applause, everyone!**

**A Morning Visit**

**by OneSizeFitsAll**

Erestor was in his room, looking for a book. Several hundred years ago, he would not have been doing anything of the sort. He thought sadly back to the days when he would never have been in his room on a fine, sunny afternoon, and when such things as books and papers were relegated to the library. These days, Erestor thought with a sigh, his room looks like a miniature library in itself.

Glorfindel wandered into the room uninvited and plopped himself on the end of the bed.

"What are you doing?" he asked listlessly.

"Looking for a book," replied Erestor briefly.

Glorfindel lay back on the pillows and groaned.

"Did you get a stomachache from eating too many sweets at lunch?" Erestor asked bitingly.

"Today," said Glorfindel pointedly, "is the day I died."

Erestor rolled his eyes. Everyone knew about Glorfindel's Death Day anniversaries. For some inexplicable reason, the Balrog Slayer was always attacked by the most curious aches and pains on this day of the year. Lord Elrond himself could rarely do anything to help him.

"I suppose your balrog wound is acting up again?" Erestor asked.

"Yes," said Glorfindel, not seeming to notice that the advisor was making fun of him. "Erestor," he went on, "I feel like slaying another balrog."

"Why don't you go on vacation to Moria?"

"Lord Elrond won't let me," replied Glorfindel fretfully.

Estel popped his head around the door. Seeing Glorfindel on the bed, he launched himself into the air with a squeal of delight and joined him, scattering pillows everywhere.

Great, thought Erestor. Now I have two of my least favorite people in my room. Simply marvelous.

"Glorfy," said Estel imperiously, having finally managed to cease giggling into the counterpane, "Tell me a story!"

"Very well, manling," said Glorfindel benevolently. "What about?"

"Really, Glorfindel," Erestor admonished. "You spoil that child far too much."

"Tell me about battles!" said Estel, ignoring the advisor. "Tell me about you and Ada slaying orcs and balrogs!"

"Well," said Glorfindel, "once upon a time there was a strong, handsome elf named Glorfindel."

"And another one named Ada!" supplied Estel.

"Yes... well, his name is actually Elrond. And this handsome elf, Glorfindel, met a balrog one day..."

"And so did Elrond!"

"...Who was killing lots of innocent people."

"Ada didn't kill lots of innocent people!" cried Estel.

"I meany, the balrog was killing lots of innocent people. And so Glorfindel..."

"And Elrond..."

"...Heroically battled the balrog, and he knocked it off a cliff!"

"And so did Elrond!" Estel finished, helpfully.

"No he didn't!" said Glorfindel.

"I'm going to kill a balrog someday," said Estel, ignoring him. "Glorfy, why don't we ever have any heroic battles anymore?"

"Because we're at peace now," said Glorfindel.

"I wish we weren't at peace."

"So do I," said Glorfindel.

"Glorfindel!" exclaimed Gildor, who had appeared out of nowhere, munching cookies and dropping crumbs all over the carpet.

"That makes three," observed Erestor.

"Three what?" asked Gildor.

"Oh, nothing," said Erestor, turning away.

Gildor turned his attention back to Glorfindel. "You should not wish for such things," he remonstrated.

"But it's so boring around here!" Glorfindel whined. "I want to go fight a battle or something!"

"So do we!" cried Elladan and Elrohir as they climbed in through the window.

"Five," sighed Erestor.

Gildor looked as though he was having a heart-attack. "How...how did you..." he stuttered.

"We climbed the ivy," said Elrohir, grabbing Gildor's cookie and taking a bite.

"It makes a bully ladder," added Elladan, snatching the cookie from Elrohir and stuffing the entire thing into his mouth. Only to spit it out the window.

"Thank the Valar that didn't go on my carpet," muttered Erestor.

"Ugh," said Elladan, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "What idiot put coconut in the chocolate chip cookies?!"

Elrohir smirked knowingly. Elladan leapt at him, and the two were soon engaged in a violent fist fight. The rest of the room's occupants opted to ignore them.

Gildor went over to the window and stuck his head out. When he came back into the room, he looked rather pale.

"What's wrong Gildy?" asked Estel. "Is there a ghost out there?"

"Estel," Gildor pronounced dramatically, "Promise me you'll never climb up ivy."

"I like climbing on ivy!" said Estel. "I climbed right up to Ada's room, yesterday!"

Gildor groaned. Erestor smirked. He knew what the matter was. The ivy that led up to the window was as thin and weak as Elvish Hair Pasta. Elrond's room was directly above his, so the ivy only got weaker.

A sour chord sounded from the doorway and an obnoxious voice began trilling, "Da-hoo-dorays! Fa-hoo-forays! Welcome..."

"Lindir!" shouted Erestor, Gildor, and Glorfindel. Estel only giggled, and the twins didn't even look up.

"What?" asked Lindir, lowering his ukulele. "I assumed there was some sort of party going on up here, and no party is complete without music!"

"Six," muttered Erestor.

"For Valar's sakes, stop counting, Erestor!" cried Glorfindel. "You skipped four, and it's messing up my OCD!"

"So," went on Lindir insistently, balancing himself on the edge of Erestor's desk (another fairly recent addition to the decor, having only been there for a few centuries), "What are you all doing up here? Having a Battle Royale, eh?" he continued, as the twins upset an inkstand onto Erestor's tabby cat.

The cat shrieked (cat style) and dove out the window.

"I wish," moaned Glorfindel.

"For the last time, Glorfindel, stop making idiotic wishes!" snapped Gildor, throwing up his hands.

"Honestly, Gildor," said Glorfindel, "Don't you ever wish that we still could go out and have fun fighting battles?"

"No," said Gildor.

"You have never desired to grasp a sword and shield and fight alongside men once more?"

"No."

"You have never missed the days when we were all famous elven warriors?"

"No."

"When the maidens used to cast themselves at our feet in gratitude for our daring and heroic deeds, in awe over our stunning good looks?"

"No."

"You've never longed to once more feel the inexpressible joy of parting an orc's head from it's body?"

"Oh, all right. Yes...yes, I do miss that. But I still don't wish the dark days upon us, when Sauron reigned in the east."

"I was thinking more along the lines of the dark days when Morgoth reigned in Angband," said Glorfindel demurely.

"Then you are a fool!" said Gildor. "None would wish those days upon us!"

"Only because they don't remember them. Were you even born when the Valar overthrew Morgoth and cast him into the void?"

Estel giggled. Again. Erestor hated children who giggled all the time.

"Would you people just get out of my room?!" he shouted, dodging a poorly aimed book that Elladan had thrown at Elrohir.

The other elves just ignored him.

"I just want to kill one more balrog," said Glorfindel, "To take part in one more epic battle. Seriously, I've almost decided to become a dark lord myself, just so that things would be a little less boring around here!"

Gildor clapped his hands over his ears. "You must not speak of such things here!" he yelled.

"Oh, Melkor!" said Glorfindel. "People these days! They won't let you talk about anything anywhere! In my day, it was necessary and cool to talk about the enemy. We didn't hide everything under a door mat like they do now."

Lindir unfortunately decided to intervene at this point, before Gildor had a chance to pass out from the foul use of fell language.

"You want battle?" he asked, laughing. "I'll give you battle!"

He caught up a pillow from the floor and threw it at Glorfindel. Glorfindel deftly caught it.

"Pillow fight!" shrieked Estel, jumping up and down on the bed.

"Estel!" cried Erestor. "Stop jumping on the bed! You'll ruin the..."

His sentence was lost as Glorfindel hurled the pillow at him and caught him full in the face.

"Yeah! Dude!" shouted Erohir, picking up another pillow and swinging it at Elladan. "Throw it at Gildor!"

"I refuse to take part in such childish games as pillow fights," announced Erestor grandly, shaking the pillow case until the pillow lay straight and flat.

Estel caught up a pillow and threw it up in the air, at no one in particular. Lindir did a cool, stylized jedi flip and fired a pillow at Elrohir, Hawk-Eye style, from behind his back. Gildor stood, looking on stiffly, but eventually a smile crept onto the corner of his lips. Finally, he stooped, picked up a pillow, and flung it at Lindir.

Erestor shook his head as he watched the storm of pillows flying back and forth. He had been through all the bookshelves, and the book he had been looking for was not there. He strode over to the window and stepped carefully over a pillow. He climbed out the window and found a foot hold in the ivy.

Erestor looked over at the others. They had not noticed his escape. Glorfindel sat with his back to him, catching every pillow that came his way. Apparently no one had managed to hit him yet. Erestor privileged himself with a smile, and bent to pick up the pillow. Taking careful aim, he fired it at the back of Glorfindel's head.

It had been a long time since Erestor had last been in a pillow fight. His aim had not improved from disuse. The pillow flew past Glorfindel and hit Lord Elrond, who had appeared in the doorway at that instant, square in the face.

Erestor caught the look of shocked surprise on Elrond's face...and then the ivy broke. He flailed wildly as he hurtled to the ground and landed in a rose bush. If he had not been screaming as he fell, he would've screamed then.

Some time later, a scratched and bloody advisor limped to the door of his room. All he could see was a blur of white pillows flying to and fro.

He pulled himself erect and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Stop the fight!"

The pillows fell to the floor unnoticed, and Erestor beheld Glorfindel, Lindir, Gildor, Estel, Elrohir, Elladan, and Elrond, all staring at him with their mouths wide open.

Erestor cleared his throat impressively. "If you would be so kind as to remove yourselves from the premises, gentlemen," he said bitingly, "I would like the use of my room back."

The 'gentlemen' glanced guiltily at each other and murmured apologies. They trailed out of the room, leaving the pillows- and many other articles- strewn across the floor.

Erestor watched them go. As the last one stepped out of the door, he picked up a pillow and hurled it at the back of Glorfindel's head.

It was only the second time Erestor had thrown a pillow in several centuries. He could still do with some practice. The pillow flew past Glorfindel and hit Lady Galadriel, who had suddenly materialized in the hallway, squarely in the face.

It was not until late that night before the sound of flying pillows and childish shrieks died down in the hallway outside of Erestor's room.


End file.
